The First Ballgame

Last night I went to my first baseball game of the season.

You see, Boyfriend also coaches his hometown high school baseball team which means a summer full of practices, games, tournaments and travel.

I don't mind though because I sure do like those baseball pants. Oofta.

Clarification: On Boyfriend, not the high school boys. I am in no way checking out the bums of high schoolers. In any way. I promise. Got it?

I spend most of my time watching Boyfriend. I love seeing him coach. He'll pace back and forth, take his cap off and put it back on while adjusting the bill during a bad play (his little third baseman caused many of these reactions), and he'll clap that encouraging way that only coaches know how to clap. You know what I'm talking about. That nottooexcitedbutstillsuperproud clap where their hands are up in from of their face but they are looking away.

Yea, that one. He does that well.

When I'm not creepily memorizing every one of Boyfriends moves and NOT staring at high schools booties, I can be seen sitting in my lawn chair down the third base line, munching on sunflower seeds, sipping my Diet Coke and reading.

And cheering annoyingly loud as any proper coach's significant other should do.

Maybe that is why Boyfriend encourages me to sit so far away from the other fans...